


Sono Stanco Di Farti Del Male

by whatsanapocalae



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Bloodplay, Cock & Ball Torture, Consensual Non-Consent, Español | Spanish, Italiano | Italian, Knifeplay, M/M, Men Crying, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, No Safeword, Painplay, Rape Fantasy, Time Skips, Voyeurism, google translate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 14:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18181538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsanapocalae/pseuds/whatsanapocalae
Summary: Inspired by: https://gfycat.com/biodegradableadorablecranefly I said I was going to write this 4 months ago and I only did today. No beta, no editing, no proofreading, like always.Sebastian and Stefano go into Stefano's domain for some rapeplay with Obscura and Sebastian didn't think it would affect Stefano as much as it does.





	Sono Stanco Di Farti Del Male

**Author's Note:**

> This did not go the way that I intended it, but I am very tired of straight up rape scenes between thee characters. I want some gentleness for them and I don't think that Stefano deserves it, but I think I do.

Stefano was leading him on a chase, just like he had back then, back when he’d had Lily. It was clear now though that he didn’t have her, that Theodore didn’t have her either. It was killing him, needing to get to her, not being able to do anything. He had to wait. He had to wait until Hoffman was ready and then they could take the fight to Theodore himself, get them all free of his distractions and control. 

He took a wrong turn. 

He went into one of the rooms instead of going straight on ahead, hearing the chuckling of women. It wasn’t the same as that horrible thing that Stefano used as a guardian for his work, it was more human. But when he entered the room there was no one. It was mundane. There was a marble slab on the floor, a few of Stefano’s morbid pictures in golden frames, a lot of rose petals, and a generous heaping of blood. All around it were cameras and lights, bounces, the works. He didn’t know what half of the tools were called but he knew that this was a set for something. If it weren’t for the blood it would have been almost romantic. 

He turned back to the door but it was too late. There was the flash of a camera and Stefano was standing there, right in front of him, his face hidden by the small box. He had been searching for Stefano, he wasn’t expecting to be found himself. 

“Curious, aren’t we?” Stefano chuckled, lowering the camera. Sebastian struggled but he couldn’t move, he was frozen. Every muscle ached with the urge to move, as he flexed, as he tried to break free, but there was nothing that he could do. “I cannot blame you, there is magic behind the scenes, so many answers to questions that you may not have even come up with yet. You have found a great many this day, no?”

He stepped into the blue square and it didn’t effect him like it did Sebastian. He could move freely. He took out his knife and spun it in one hand, casual. Sebastian would have gulped if he could, would have drawn his gun, would have shot through the bastard right there, if only he could. His steps were light and whimsical on the tiled floor. 

With his free hand he took a hold of Sebastian’s jaw, turning his head one way and then the other, looking pleased with himself. Sebastian remembered a promise then, that he was to Stefano’s art, and he wanted to struggle again. He had no intention to be this man’s masterpiece. 

Stefano didn’t seem to notice how much he fought, licking the side of Sebastian’s face, along the wound that Stefano had dealt him before, that the syringes wouldn’t heal for some reason. He was marked. He was Stefano’s. 

“Mia stenopeica, would you get him ready? It’s time to make some art!”

A loud moaning filled Sebastian’s ears and a cold sensation crept into his guts. He hadn’t expected Obscura. He had thought that this would just be the two of them, like it had been that first time. He thought that he had a chance to fight back. 

She flipped down from the ceiling and the barbed wire stemming from her back curled and coiled around Sebastian, not tight enough to cut, but enough to hold him. He couldn’t struggle without cutting himself and he recognized where she’d placed each of these wicked thorns, right on a pulse point. He wouldn’t bleed just by a little. Her hands went around his waist though and she lifted him that way, careful, as if not to damage the goods. 

He heaved in a breath as he was carried out of the flashes range. He wanted to struggle, he wanted to fight. He had to get away. But Obscura lay him down on that marble table and it now felt much more like an altar than a set piece. 

The moment he was free of the barbed wire he was struggling, trying to get away, trying to save himself. Stefano chuckled as he followed them over, as Obscura grabbed Sebastian by the wrists and held him down, one of her feet on his chest to keep him from moving too much. He could still kick out though and he did, trying to get at Stefano’s ribs, at his face. 

Stefano just tutted him though and grabbed one of his legs, setting down his knife on the table. If Sebastian could get free, if he could get that knife, he’d have a chance. 

“Take a photo, would you?” He pulled Sebastian’s pant leg up to press kisses to his calf. “All this struggle is quite distracting.”

Obscura moaned and flashed. 

\----

He was stripped, from the waist down. He was still on the table, and his shirt had been hiked up so that Stefano could carve lines into his abdomen, leaving lines of fire in their wake. He was grinning, as mad as ever, enraptured in the process of creating his art. A second line and Sebastian was crying out, reaching, hands trying to hold onto something. Obscura was still holding onto his wrists, still keeping him still. 

And there was something else, something that Sebastian couldn’t place at first. The fire wasn’t just on the outside of his belly, from where the blood slowly trickled, but lower, internal, the heat of arousal. He looked down, seeing his thick cock hard and resting on his hip, waiting for a stimuli he doubted would ever come. 

He whined, trying to pull away, dragging his hips back against the marble, and that was when he realized that he was full. Stefano grabbed his thigh and pulled him back, placing Sebastian’s leg over his shoulder. Stefano was deep inside of him, but the stretch wasn’t painful. In the time that Sebastian had lost from Obscura’s flash, he must have been prepped by those thin and elegant fingers, must have been touched in such depraved ways to get his body ready and pliant. 

“P-please...” Sebastian murmured, unaccustomed to begging, “stop.”

Stefano’s grin just spread. He looked manic. He looked like the monster that Sebastian had always expected him to be. 

“Oh, how I have longed for this, to hear what notes you will hit. Your begging is nice but your moans are the real sounds I want to hear.” He slung his left leg over Sebastian’s twisting his body and making the wounds in his side sing. He was so deep already. 

Sebastian’s eyebrows knit. He didn’t want to moan. He didn’t want to beg. He didn’t want to give this man anything. 

Stefano moved fast, jerky, his hips shoving in so deep that, if it weren’t for Obscura, he would have been slid across the marble. He hid his face at the realization, that he wasn’t just being fucked, but that he was being watched. What was art without an audience? 

He didn’t want to moan. He didn’t want this to feel good. He could feel as his muscles slowly relaxed in his ass, as the tissues stretched, as his body gave in and allowed Stefano to shove in deep over and over again. He’d never been fucked like this. He’d never been dragged so low. He’d never been so powerless. He felt tears spring to his eyes as pressure pressed against his prostate, as Stefano angled himself in different ways, trying to find the best response. 

And he moaned. It was small at first, as the first set of tears rolled down his cheeks, as the side of Stefano’s blade slid against his thigh. Stefano made a small cooing sound in response and somehow picked up the pace, hitting that same spot, eliciting a louder noise. He shoved and shoved until Sebastian was crying out with each one, humiliation and pleasure driving the tears to soak his cheeks more and more. 

“Please!” He begged again, “Stef-ano, pleeeeease!”

Stefano laughed, tossing his head back, but he didn’t slow in the least. “What is it, mio puttano?”

Sebastian shook his head. It was too much, it felt like he was going to pass out, just from the pleasure that he wished that he wasn’t having. 

“Please, please, let me, ah fuck! Please let me come! Stefano!” He moaned, hating how his voice cracked, how the pleasure interrupted him. 

Stefano grabbed a hold of his balls and squeezed and Sebastian screamed at the pain of it, at how sensitive they were. Stefano shoved into him deep and came at the sound of his agony, his cock pulsing inside of Sebastian’s body. He massaged Sebastian’s testicles cruelly, making his stomach hitch and his crying turn to sobs. He couldn’t come, not like this, not with all of the attention on the wrong parts. He was writhing, trying once more to pull away. 

Obscura flashed and this humiliation was captured on silver nitrate.

\----

Stefano was inside of him, still thrusting, just as hard as before, as if he hadn’t just come. Sebastian didn’t feel sore though, didn’t feel overstimulated. Obscura was holding him looser than before and he was able to cover up those gashes in his side, able to curl in on himself. He also felt like he was nowhere near climax. 

Stefano’s fingers dug into the meat of his leg. He noticed that there were hickies on his thighs, when Stefano hadn’t even touched him there, and his lips felt swollen and chapped, as if they had been kissed and bit. 

“There we are, mio puttano,” Stefano crooned, “back with us at last.”

He didn’t know how much time he had missed, but it was obvious that he had missed quite a bit. He groaned, feeling Stefano slide out to the tip before thrusting back in, jerking spasmically before pulling back out to the tip. He was doing something different, trying to get to Sebastian in another way. 

“Look up, piccola troia,” Stefano ordered, “Look at what such a display has done.”

Sebastian glanced upward, realizing that all this time Obscura’s foot had been on the table by his head, that she was stretched and open as well. Her sexual organs were a mess, more of a triangle than a slit, with three hard clitorises, one at each point. She was gaping and drooling, so much fluid spilling from her. It would land on Sebastian’s face once the elasticity gave out. He closed his eyes and turned away. 

“You’re performance is admirable. Voglio tenerti qui per sempre, fanculo finché non perdi ogni desiderio di andartene. Sei così bella. Come vorrei poterti mantenere.” There was something soft in his words, ad Sebastian didn’t understand all of them but some were close enough to Spanish for him to think that he got some sort of gist in it. He studied Stefano’s face, ignoring the way that his insides were being rearranged by his cock, even if that had slowed with this realization that was changing Stefano’s expression so drastically. “Lo sai che ti amo? Nessuno come te prima, mai.. Nessuno mi ha mai dato questo prima.”

Sebastian felt his throat tighten and then Stefano’s grip followed suit and he was pounding into Sebastian once more, as if he hadn’t just confessed something dark and lovely to him, something that Sebastian knew he would never say in English. He felt his eyes start to water again, though this time it was for a completely different reason than the pleasure. 

Stefano was setting a bruising pace though and Obscura pulled his hand away from the wound in his side, remembering to display him properly. Sebastian cried out at the change, at how his body was twisted, at how the dried blood cracked open and he was allowed to bleed once more. 

The pressure was building once more, that urge to come, his cock thick and heavy and more sensitive than before. He knew he hadn’t come yet, there was no evidence of it, no sticky trail on his stomach, no stains on his shirt. He wanted to. He needed to. 

“Stefano! Stefano, please! I need to come. Please, fuck! Oh god! Please, let me come?” he knew that he was begging, he knew that he should feel shame at it, but after what Stefano had just said he knew that he couldn’t feel quite as humiliated as the man in power did. He pretended that he didn’t know any of it, that it was more insults, because he couldn’t handle the truth at the moment. 

Stefano fucked him hard, punishing, just as hard as he had the first time Sebastian had begged to come. This time though, his hand didn’t go for Sebastian’s balls. It went for the wounds in his hand and he pressed, his fingers sliding against and slightly into the wounds. Sebastian screamed, bolting upright as every muscle in his body tensed and Obscura had to shove him back down, put her foot back on his chest to keep him from struggling too much. Stefano was coming harder this time, jack hammering into him as he did so. Sebastian was sobbing before Stefano stopped, before he pulled out. 

Obscura flashed and he still hadn’t come. 

\---

This time he was almost flat on his back, his legs spread, both of them on Stefano’s thighs. His knife was once more on the table, his hands gripping Sebastian’s thighs, and his head was lolling back. From Sebastian’s angle he couldn’t see the artist’s face, just his jaw and the tightness in his body, even though he was fully dressed. He was tight and hard, and closed up, even though his body was open and he was fucking Sebastian so hard. 

There had been another jump in time, another segment where Sebastian had laid there and Stefano had done whatever he wanted to him, getting ready to fuck him again. He could hear the squelching sound coming from his body, as Stefano shoved into his own ejaculate, as so much fluid lubricated their carnal act. 

There was enough room in Obscura’s grip for Sebastian to twist his hands but not to escape and, at this point he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He was already so close, so desperate to come. He wanted to beg immediately, had to get some kind of touch. Stefano wouldn’t touch him, he knew that. Stefano would hurt him for asking. 

He wanted to come though. He couldn’t even touch himself. 

“You’re pathetic,” Stefano stated, his voice wrecked. It wasn’t from arousal though, nor madness. There was something different in the way that he was speaking. He was also fucking Sebastian softer, more like a lover. It had to be exhaustion, Sebastian’s body giving up, that’s all it was. He couldn’t allow himself to think that there was an ounce of care in Stefano’s voice. “you just want so much don’t you? You’re nothing but a cumdump, a slut, but you think you’re allowed to come.” 

Sebastian moaned, arching his back, helping Stefano find that spot inside of him. His cock head scraped against it and Sebastian whimpered. He was all of those things, everything that Stefano was calling him. He wanted more. He wanted Stefano to tear him apart. He thought that was what he was getting. Something had changed. 

“Non posso continuare a farlo. Non posso fingere di odiarti. Il dolore è bello ma qualcosa in te è così brutto.” He moved his hands to grip Sebastian’s waist. He did the motions, but there was something different from before, something wrong. There was no passion, no hatred. He seemed to be extremely nervous now. 

He looked down, moved his head in a way that his hair hid his face, not just one side and there was definitely something wrong. Sebastian was half pulled out of it, out of what was happening, with an urge to hold onto Stefano and pull him close, to check on him, but if this moment was salvageable he knew that that would ruin it. 

He swallowed, hard. He struggled, pulling against Obscura and he whined, trying to get the spirit back into the scene. Stefano was still hard at least, but he was hardly moving at all. 

“Stefano...” he groaned but he didn’t know what to say, how to get him back into the right head space. “look at me? Am I a masterpiece?”

Stefano let go of his leg and pushed his hair back into place. There was blood on his face from their earlier activities, but it was streaked, lines of clean skin slipping down his cheeks from his eye. His eye was red to, the veins angry and irritated. The idea was for Sebastian to be in pain, not Stefano. This wasn’t the point of this. 

His eye trailed over Sebastian’s body and Sebastian followed his gaze. There were bruises everywhere, the size of fingertips and teeth, hickies along all of his softer parts. There was hardly an inch of skin not covered in Stefano’s marks and Sebastian didn’t remember any of that happening. He looked filthy, he looked like a million men had touched him instead of just this one in this space. 

“I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to make love with art,” Stefano admitted. 

“Then do it,” Sebastian offered, spreading his legs further, trying to be inviting. 

“I thought you hated my work.”

“I don’t appreciate it, no, but I’m starting to come around to it.”

Stefano chuckled then and it was warm and a little less broken. The mood was ruined and Obscura’s grip was lessening, as she moaned in confusion, but Stefano started to move again, started to fuck Sebastian slow but deep, more sensual now than before. His hands were still on Sebastian’s waist and he slowly started to pick up the pace, rocking into him harder and harder. It wasn’t the same, it wasn’t violent and cruel, but it was fast and deep and tender in a way that Sebastian hadn’t allowed himself to have in years. If he was going to be fucked, he wanted it to be hard and cruel, nothing like what he’d had with Myra. 

He plowed into Sebastian, leaning over him slightly, and soon he was waving Obscura off. She groaned in disappointment but did as she was bid, scampering off to who knows where. The moment they were alone Stefano crumpled, wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s waist and back, pulling him closer, fucking him deeper. Sebastian didn’t try to fight his moans now, just allowed them to happen as Stefano buried his face into his neck, as he slid in and out of him, as he bent his knees at different angles to find his prostate once more. 

“¡Ahí! Ah! Oh fuck! ¡Sólo aquí! Joder, Stefa- AH! -no solo fuuuuuuuuck sigue adelante. ¡Sí! ¡Eso es perfecto! Ah!” Sebastian moaned, not trying to stop the interruptions. If Stefano was going to speak Italian, he had no qualms speaking Spanish. He felt so good. This felt so good. Less like being used and more like being loved and he hated wanting that but he needed it. He didn’t realize how much he needed it. 

They’d come into this with a plan, something to suit both of their needs. They’d thought that Sebastian would be the one to break first, that Stefano could handle such a disgusting distraction. Sebastian hadn’t even thought that it would break him faster, that he would harbor feelings that didn’t stroke his own needs. 

Stefano kept going, same place, picking up the pace. “Can I… non importa, sono così sciocco...” he trailed off into muttering. 

“What?” Sebastian squeezed out between two large gasps, his dick jumping at the feeling of Stefano against his prostate. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Stefano shoved into him harder, as if to distract Sebastian from his words. 

“Please?” Sebastian asked and his hand scrambled, went for Stefano’s and he threaded their fingers together, feeling more vulnerable at the sensation of his skin against the leather gloves. “Please?” 

Stefano wrapped Sebastian’s cock with his free hand and Sebastian arched his back again, crying out, feeling his desire to orgasm double with that simple touch. Stefano jerked him hard, matching the speed of his hips, and Sebastian wasn’t going to last. He could see the desire, the lust, and the sorrow in Stefano’s eye. His pupil was fully dilated and there were tears forming, clumping in those thick and long eyelashes. His mouth was a scribbled line, pulled so tight in a tense frown that his lips were almost impossible to see. 

“No! No,” Sebastian pleaded, “Not that, that’s not what I was asking for.” 

Stefano didn’t release him, though he lessened his grip and his speed. He was still fucking Sebastian just as hard and his orgasm was building, but he had to know what Stefano needed.

Sebastian brought up his free hand and ran it along Stefano’s cheek. Stefano actually shoved into it, nuzzling into Sebastian’s palm and horror filled Sebastian at the amount of trust there was there, at how much Stefano needed his touch, and he wondered just how long it had been for him. 

“It doesn’t matter, pretend I didn’t say anything.” The tears were starting to slip again though. 

Sebastian’s orgasm slid out of reach for the moment, even with so much stimulation. 

Sebastian swiped his thumb up against Stefano’s cheekbone and felt the mound of scar tissue against the pad, felt how Stefano’s jaw clenched at the touch. 

“It’s okay. Whatever you want, it’s okay.” 

“Posso baciarti? Per favore?” Stefano closed his eye, rocking against Sebastian’s prostate. 

He knew the last part, he knew ‘please’, but he didn’t know the first part, the important part. “I don’t know what you’re saying. 

“Can I kiss you?” he murmured. 

Sebastian barely heard him but still his heart was pounding, more than the fucking had led him into. He let go of Stefano’s hand, grabbed him by the back of the head, and pulled him down, kissed him hard, kissed him breathless. He was out of practice, hadn’t wanted anyone to kiss him since Myra and none of the one night stands had asked. Joseph had tried but he wouldn’t let him, not with how hurt he was all the time. So it was clumsy and bad and all teeth but Stefano was moaning into his mouth and fucking him deep and he was touching him so gingerly. It wasn’t like anything Sebastian had had in a long time. 

And he came, with Stefano against his lips, spilling onto his chest, so much, more than he ever did when he edged himself, so many almost orgasms forcing this one to be blinding. Stefano followed him soon after, groaning and biting at his lip. Stefano had kissed him, in those between moments, Sebastian was sure of it, but now he had permission and was being kissed back and that was all that mattered. 

Stefano stayed inside of him, after they came, as they just breathed. Stefano just lay against Sebastian’s chest and his face was hidden once more, but because he was laying the good side on Sebastian, letting Sebastian run his hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t hurt you too badly, I hope?” Stefano asked, once they’d gotten their breath back enough. 

Sebastian shook his head. “I’m not still bleeding, am I?”

Stefano sat up, looking at his jacket. There was no blood stain from lying on the wound at least. “I think you’re fine.”

“Just fine?” Sebastian pouted. “I thought I was a masterpiece.”

Stefano laughed and it vibrated through his soft penis, still inside of Sebastian. It brought to light just how sensitive they both were and Stefano slowly eased out of him, seeing how his semen followed, three large loads all slipping down the cleft of Sebastian’s ass. 

“Not a masterpiece, perhaps, but a work in progress.”

Sebastian laughed at that. Stefano wasn’t laughing though, he was eyeing Sebastian with something akin to trepidation. He was checking in, on both of them. The man was a serial killer and a monster and a torture, but now he was worried, about what they had just done, about what Sebastian had asked him to do. 

“Do you think Hoffman is ready for you?” Stefano asked and he sounded hollow. They both knew what it would mean if she was. 

“I think we can wait a little longer,” Sebastian decided, wrapping an arm around Stefano and pulling him close. Doing things like this could be hard on the one committing the more violent acts. He thought Stefano could handle it. He didn’t know what to do now that he knew that he was wrong. He ran his fingers through Stefano’s hair, feeling him tremble and breathe. He had enjoyed it though, once the act was over and they were more honest with themselves. 

He kissed Stefano’s scalp, lightly. 

Stefano sighed and tension fell out of him in a wave of his shoulders slumping and his body softening.


End file.
